Got To Make Up Got To Wake Up
by YourRhineStoneEyes
Summary: An alternate universe 2doc inspired by the Gorillaz song, Faust. Murdoc is 17 years old, he wakes up every morning dreading the day ahead, his life is a never ending cycle of physical and verbal abuse. Until one night he meets a blue haired boy named Stuart who seems to hold no ill will his way.
1. Chapter 1

Murdoc Niccals wasn't sure what or who he hated the most. Some days he hated his abusive drug dealing drunkard father, others he hated his older Nazi Punk brother Hannibal who would beat him to the point he needed to see a doctor, and other days he hated the school that he attended where teachers never even bothered with him and students taunted and beat him shitless. He hated them all and unlike most miserable teenagers he couldn't just remind himself that in three months he would be eighteen and he could just fucking leave and start his own life. Hell he could have left when he was ten, but he couldn't and he wouldn't all because he had no means. He had no job, no friends, no girlfriend, or anybody to rely on. He didn't have any other relatives that he knew of, he didn't really want to know if he did have uncles or aunts, they'd be rotten bastards just like his father and he didn't need anymore of that shit.

Every school day he dreaded; he dreaded waking up, dreaded going to school, and dreaded going back home at the end of the day.

Today wasn't really an exception to this rule of routine.

He carefully looked out from his bedroom doorway glancing both ways before rushing into the small bathroom across the hall. He closed and locked the door behind him, grateful that at least this room had a lock on the door. He quickly undressed leaving his dirty and torn clothes on the floor, he went to the shower stall turning the water on hot then stepping in under the spray of water. As he scrubbed at his dirty skin he went lightly over the bruises on his arms from where his father had grabbed him, the bruises around his throat like a choker from where a boy at school had strangled him until he had blacked out, and was careful of the long cut across his chest from where his brother had marked him last night. Once he was sure all of the grime and blood was washed from his skin and hair he stepped out of the shower, towel dried his hair, and dressed into the same black jeans that were too tight holes piercing through the denim and dirt forever staining them. He grabbed a plain gray shirt, one of the few clean things he owned without holes or blood stains. He couldn't help but take a quick look at himself in the cracked dirty mirror that hung on the wall above the sink, he caught a glimpse of his busted lip and blackened eye. Dirty, everything in this rubbish hell hole was dirty. He hated it, but at the same time it felt like he belonged here. Some bitch fucked a bastard and here was their satanic spawn as a result of their fornication. That was how he viewed himself, his father, this house, and the mystery woman who birthed him. The one who supposedly was residing at a mental institute, all locked up in her straight jacket in a fluffy white room where she couldn't hurt herself or anyone else.

He quickly went back inside of his bedroom pulling on the worn brown coloured boots he wore every day. He rushed into the living room feeling that maybe for once he could make it out the front door without being harmed.

A hand grabbed him by his hair jerking him back, Murdoc let out a strangled cry as he fell hard on his ass. His scalp burned; whoever was holding his hair pulled hard, he felt as if his hair was being pulled out. He was released, the burning fading to a throbbing pain that he could deal with. As he started to get to his feet a foot connected with his ass knocking him face first on the ground. He felt a foot on the small of his back, a heavy weight holding him down. A beer bottle hit the ground just inches away from his face; the glass cracked.

"You trying to sneak out on me?" His brother's drunken voice asked.

Murdoc struggled trying to find a way out. Hannibal removed his foot allowing the younger Niccals to roll onto his back then quickly get to his feet.

The older man stood before him; tall, muscular, his skin a sickly green, head shaved, brown eyes so dark they were nearing black, and a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Hannibal grabbed the younger by the front of his shirt shoving him up against the wall.

"Pathetic little worm aren't you, can't even fight back."

"Sod off I just wanna go to the shit school building then come back to this fucking Hell hole."

He turned his head to the side as Hannibal blew stale cigarette smoke in his face.

"Pathetic worthless little cunt, you're lucky dad is a good enough man to take a worm like you inside of the house." He released the younger brother then punched him in the stomach causing him to double over in pain.

Hannibal grabbed him by the back of the head holding him still; he brought his knee up to his face connecting with his nose hard enough to make it crack. Blood began pouring from his nose and mouth; he felt something rattle most likely a tooth. Hannibal threw him roughly to the ground, sat on top of him, lifted his shirt up to his chin, and then proceeded to stub his cigarette out on Murdoc's chest; he laughed as the younger brother screamed in pain.

"Learn your place worm." Hannibal said as he got up then left the house.

He lay there for awhile not entirely sure what to do; go to school, take another pointless shower, or run and keep on running. If he didn't go to school then they'd give him shit, call his father, and his father would break his arm.

Two minutes later he pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, he didn't even bother with going back into the bathroom; he was already an hour fucking late, not like it really mattered. If he showed up that was all that mattered, because then they knew he was there, and maybe if he was lucky he'd somehow manage to scrape by in his grades and graduate with the rest of the losers in this bum fuck town.

This was his daily morning routine; feeling like a prisoner inside of his own home, feeling like he shouldn't be there, and that he should be ashamed of his very existence. He felt like he should apologize for his father fucking his mother and knocking her up. He felt like he caused major chaos and agony in the lives of every person he came in contact with and to be honest he loved it.


	2. Chapter 2

After school when he got home and walked through the front door into the spacious combination room of their kitchen and living room with its sparse furnishings he noticed the broken plates and cups strewn across the floor going around their extremely old round wooden dining table. One of the three chairs that went along with the table lay next to the sofa with its front two legs broken off, as he noticed that he noticed the crap television set lying on the ground, the screen broken, and one of the missing chair legs sticking out of the screen. Holes ripped through the cushions of the sofa and the only thing, thankfully intact was the small safe his father kept his stash of drugs and money inside of. He tried to go through all of the possible causes of this; his father on a drunken rampage, his brother on a bad acid trip, some pissed off dealers, some pissed off hooker, but before he could get another thought through his mind something hard and heavy hit him right in the back knocking him face on the ash and alcohol stained wooden floor.

"What the hell did you do to my home boy?"

He felt himself tense, he crawled away so there was some space between him and his raging father. He climbed to his feet and turned to face the old man; his father was a tall man, a long crooked nose, his eyes as dark and dead as Hannibal's, his thin lips currently turned down in a snarl exposing crooked and rotted teeth, his greasy black hair hung down past his earlobes, and per usual he was dressed in a cheap black suit wearing a black cape and carrying that damned walking stick that he claimed was for a bum leg but in reality he used it to beat his sons with.

"What I didn't fucking do this, somebody had to break in or it was Han."

"Don't blame your brother, he's the only one of you two that was planned, and the only good son I have."

Hannibal had been planned, Sebastian Niccals had a wife at one time who supposedly he did love deeply; he claimed that she left once baby Murdoc was dropped off at the house, but he knew better.

"Well I sure as fuck didn't do this, I just fucking got here."

His father moved closer to him, he considered running but remembered what had happened the last time he'd tried that. So he stood and took it when his father punched him in the face, breaking his nose for the second time that day; it was already smashed in and crooked, at least it didn't look like his father's anymore.

"Don't curse in my house you worthless little queer." His father said his voice harsh, alcohol heavy on his breath.

Murdoc didn't get another word in; his father's foot connected with his stomach throwing him back against the dining table. It fell from the force of his weight, his head banged back against the top of it when it flipped; the pain was sharp and dull, it was a miracle there wasn't too much brain damage at this point in his life.

He considered moving, but soon the tip of the cane was against the front of his throat not pressing hard enough to choke him but enough to ensure he didn't think of moving. His father delivered a sharp kick between his son's legs, the younger fell to his side curling up and crying in pain. He felt the cane hit against his ass, the backs of his legs, his upper arm, and soon it stopped completely.

"Get out; get out of my fucking house you worthless little worm."

Worm, a worthless little worm; a seventeen year old worthless little worm that spent every day of his worthless worm like life being beaten and screamed at and blamed for every evil deed that came his way. The only four things in the world that never judged him were; alcohol, drugs, metal music, and Satanism.

His father turned and walked away going to his own bedroom. It was an hour until he could actually move even though it still hurt like a bitch. He managed to carry himself over to the kitchen counter, open one of the overhanging cabinets and grab out an orange pill bottle containing pain killers. He opened it spilling three pills out into the palm of his hand, he popped them in his mouth then swallowed them feeling them attempt to gag him on the way down. He thought if he needed anything more, but he didn't; he just needed to get out before Hannibal showed up or one of his father's sick co-workers who would do ungodly things to him like they used to do when he had been a child. He shuddered at the thought, a lump forming in his throat, and a short overwhelming feeling to cry overcame him; a moment later it was gone again.

He left the house going out the world welcoming him with the intense smell of smoke and filth all around him, the sky was darkened, the moon and lamp posts the only things keeping the world lit, and the air stung the open wounds on his face and arms. He walked through the streets keeping his head low avoiding any man who looked even slightly familiar, grimacing each time one of the street walkers looked at him or brushed their hand against his arm in welcoming. He hated them; he hated every fucking one of them. He continued walking until he reached the outskirts of this little shit town, there was this sort of park there; it had been abandoned years ago, the grass was dead dried up and yellowing, benches were warped and splintering from the frantically ever changing weather, and any swing sets or metal animals had been taken away and sold such a long time ago.

He sat down on one of the benches being careful of the spikes of wood splintering up from the rotted wood. He pulled a cigarette and a lighter from the pocket of his jeans, he placed it between his lips lighting the end and taking a long drag. He enjoyed the burn and tickle of the smoke deep down in his throat, he released the smoke watching it twirl and fade into the polluted night sky. He reached his hand back inside of the pocket fingering a hole there, great. He only had two more pairs of jeans at home, another pair of black and then faded blue. He glanced down at his brown boots, they were fading, and a hole was forming at the toe of the left one. Some day, some day he wouldn't be living like this; he wouldn't let this be his entire life, he'd get revenge and he'd be better than these bastards that scurried around him like worthless rats, and one day he'd be rich enough to own new clothes and new shoes.

He looked at the cigarette he held between his fingers, watched as it burned down, the ash it left behind eventually breaking and falling to the ground, he smashed the fallen ash with his foot then took another drag repeating the process.

"Wow you look like Hell."

He looked up following the sound of the voice feeling annoyed by their stupid observation. His eyes landed on a quite tall very lanky pale skinned teenage boy, his eyes were a light shade of blue, his short spiked hair coloured electric blue. He was dressed in a faded orange shirt with 'Gorilla Biscuits' scribbled on the front in marker, his blue jeans were faded and torn, the red converses he wore on his feet had holes in them as well.

"No shit, who the hell are you?"

The boy gave a small smile as he continued to stare at Murdoc.

"Stu Pot; you get hit by a truck or something?"

Stu sat down next to him on the bench keeping a good amount of space between them. He picked at the splinters sticking up out of the bench, throwing them to the ground looking mildly bemused by this.

"I wish"

Stu laughed, he looked up at Murdoc with those blue eyes of his that only appeared brighter because of blue hair. He felt a bit odd looking at the teenager, he didn't like the feeling much.

"Mugging then or maybe a fight in a pub, did your boyfriend beat on you because if he did you should dump the filthy bastard."

"I'm not gay and no to all the other ones."

The blue haired man tilted his head to the side.

"You aren't gay, weird I thought you were."

Murdoc laughed dryly.

"How the hell can you think I'm gay, you don't even know me."

Stu shrugged; again he smiled this time revealing crooked teeth.

"Wishful thinking eh, er so what's your name?"

"Murdoc Niccals; by the way what are you doing out here so late?"

"Could ask the same of you, Murdoc; funny name."

"I had to leave my house."

"Evicted?"

"Not lucky enough to have my own place; I um live with my dad and my older brother."

He looked back down at his cigarette noticing it was nearly gone; he stubbed the remainder of it out on the ground.

"Got another fag, I could use one."

Murdoc nodded and pulled another cigarette and his lighter from his pocket handing them both off to the pale skinned boy. He always had a slight discomfort when it came to Punks, all because of his brother and his brother's hideous friends. He loved the Clash and other punk groups, but he loathed the way the punks in the area tended to treat him; then again nobody treated Murdoc well.

"Thanks mate, you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fucking great y'know, all sunshine and flowers; that sort of shit."

"Sorry, it was a dumb question; you should really get those cuts cleaned up or else they'll get infected."

Murdoc shrugged, he ran his fingers back through his hair.

"It's alright just sort of feel like shit."

"Is there any place you have to be tonight?" Stu asked hesitantly.

The black haired man looked up at him. The teenager looked a bit nervous.

"No not unless I'm allowed back home, even if I am don't think I'll be there soon; why?"

"There's a pub nearby here right? Want to go there, just get a few drinks or whatever; you look like you could use it."

"I don't have any money on me."

"It's alright I'll pay for it, I stole some money from my uncle before I left the house."

Murdoc laughed, the other man seemed pleasantly surprised by the sound of it.

Stu stood up, he offered his hand to the black haired man, Murdoc took it allowing the taller man to help him to his feet. They walked through the nearly empty streets talking here and there asking little questions that came to mind.

The pub they arrived at was nearly empty; he was thankful for that. They went to a table near the back, ordered two shots of whiskey, and went back to casual conversation once the drinks had arrived and gone followed by an order for two more.

"You live with your uncle, what about your folks?"

Stu looked down at the glass in his hand.

"They kicked me out last year when I told them I'm gay, weren't too happy about that news."

"Sorry to hear about that, why did they get that pissed?"

"Not what God wants; they raised me better, and all that other trash. I really tried though, I tried to fix it or hide it; I even had this girlfriend for the longest time but it never worked out and hell she knew I was gay before I even wanted to admit it. So I finally accepted it and that I can't change it to make them happy, so they sent me to my uncle's. I'm living there trying to get saved or some bollocks like that."

Murdoc placed his hand over the other man's.

"You don't need fixed mate, they need fucking fixed. Nothing wrong with you, anyway how is that whole 'being saved' thing going for you?" He asked smirking

Stu looked up at him giving a sly smile.

"Two blokes since moving to my uncle's and I still sort of want to screw your brains out."

Murdoc's eyes widened a bit, for once he was at a loss for words; Stu laughed at him, he ran his fingers along the top of the ashen skinned teen.

"Complimented or disgusted?"

"Shocked and complimented; I'm not really used to anybody saying things like that to me."

Stu raised an eyebrow at that.

"Are you um a virgin?"

"What, no, oh Satan no" He said shaking his head.

"Just don't get lucky too often, right?"

"Right, not too liked around here; everybody at school hates me, strangers, Vickers, and family all hate my bloody guts."

It'd be nice to be liked by a person or two, but knowing he was important enough for all of these people to hate him gave him the smallest warm happy feeling deep in his gut.

"Is that how you got beat up like that, your dad I mean."

"Yeah; somebody trashed our house, probably my brother Hannibal. My old man thinks I'm the one who did it, the other bumps and bruises are from school though."

He shrugged it off.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen, you?"

"Sixteen, why don't you try and get some place else?"

"No job, no friends, or anything like that; hell you could get out."

Stu smiled sadly.

"I got a job at my uncle's keyboard shop, don't get paid much, and I'm just a complete pussy you know."

"Think you could get me a job there?"

"Could try, but doubt it'd work; not cause I wouldn't want you there, I'd love to have you there, but he didn't even wanna take me in. Just part of the stupid saving program you know. Trust me if I ever run off I'll take you with me."

Somehow he believed him, he didn't even know him, but he believed him.

They sat and talked and when they weren't talking they were drinking. It was nearing one in the morning when they decided to leave and go on their way, Stu walked Murdoc to his house he said it was to make sure he could get in, but Murdoc knew the younger was walking him home worried about what would happen once he'd go inside. When he was sure the black haired man wasn't going to get jumped he said his goodbye then went back to his uncle's house.

Murdoc stumbled back to his bedroom closing the door and propping a trunk full of vinyl records up against the door to keep his brother out, he collapsed on the bed falling asleep a second later.


	3. Chapter 3

"So what is school like for you can't be any worse than mine." Murdoc said before taking another drink from the beer bottle that he held in his hand.

The two of them were sitting in Sr drink from the beer bottle that he held in his hand.

tu's bedroom; the room was what you expected of a sixteen year old gay punk who was forced to live with his religious uncle who was supposed to save his nephew's soul. Posters lined the wall to the far right; The Germs, Bowie, Clash, Sex Pistols, and other bands some of which Murdoc had heard or did enjoy. The wall to the left which was the wall that the twin sized bed sat against with its dirty sheets and knife holes in the mattress; this wall was splattered with paint, obscenities mostly written in black paint, and then random bits of graffiti. The other two walls were plan, except for the broken window.

"Well I've never gotten a broken nose before, but I've been locked in the restroom. I've been beaten up, held down and my hair all cut to hell and back once, and things like that."

The younger man didn't seem too phased by any of it, it was normal for the both of them to be bullied.

"I've been meaning to ask about that horrid dye job for a couple days now, what is with that anyway?"

Stu grinned and ran his fingers back through the spiked mess of electric blue.

"It's not a dye job mate, this shit used to be brown y'know. Then I fell out of a tree when I was little and it fucked my head up real bad that's why I'm kind of dumb."

The blue haired man laughed, shook his head, and then grabbed the bottle away from Murdoc drinking the rest of its contents. Stu tossed the bottle to the floor adding to the pile of empty bottles.

"You serious?"

"Yeah I'm dead serious, can you see any roots?" He asked leaning forward and pulling his hair down.

Murdoc looked closely, but the younger man was right; he really couldn't see shit.

"Holy fuck you're serious, good thing I really like the colour blue." He said smirking.

Stu sat back still smiling.

"You can spend the night if you want to, I know you don't wanna go back home. I only really came back here tonight cause you agreed to hang around for a bit."

The younger man glanced towards the broken window; outside the sun was setting turning the sky a sort of pale blue.

"Has your uncle um ever, y'know hit you?"

He felt awkward asking the question, it was something personal, but he sort of wanted to know.

Stu glanced in his direction then cast his eyes downwards towards the bed.

"Just twice, my dad on the other hand; there was this time just a year before I told them I'm gay, well my parents have a trust rule which means they don't trust me at all. So while I was out with this bloke I was sort of secret seeing, they had gone through my room and found this gay porn magazine. My dad yelled, mom cried, and then his fist my face and I hit the floor. When he did calm down though I told him I just had it because of this fascinating article on global warming." He smiled again, looking up and meeting the older man's eyes.

He felt that tightening in his chest and the lack of oxygen in the room as he looked at the younger man; his eyes that smile, his fucking everything. He looked away not being able to look at Stu until the feeling completely passed.

"You aren't too bad of a liar Stu Pot."

"If I couldn't lie I'd go crazy living here y'know. How do you keep from going all loony?"

Murdoc laughed.

"Who said I'm sane?"

The younger man nodded in agreement.

"We're all mad here"

"Won't your uncle freak out seeing you with a bloke in your room?"

"Hm maybe, but I'm not shagging you; unless you completely changed your mind, offer still stands you know. You are a really attractive bloke."

Murdoc averted his eyes, he felt nervous; not being another man was interested in him, but because this male found him attracted. He ignored the feeling of shyness of attraction that wanted to grow, but he refused to let it.

"You really find me attractive or you just trying to get in my pants?"

Stu laughed.

"Both"

"Jackass" Murdoc muttered lightly shoving the younger man's shoulder.

"I do mean it though, don't get why you don't know it."

"Nobody wants me, you know; usually girls will shag me or kiss me if we're in a dark room and I swear to never tell a soul."

"Girls are bitches, I'd never do that to somebody I get with. Even when I was hiding about who I am I still didn't hide anybody, but we always swore to not tell my parents."

Murdoc heard a sound coming from somewhere in the house followed by a door slamming shut. He had this reaction of wanting to hide under his bed or crawl out the bedroom window; he had to remind himself that this wasn't his house. Stu on the other hand seemed very relaxed; he got up from the bed, walked over to the door, and locked it. Once he was done with that he went back over to the bed like it was no big deal, maybe it wasn't.

"He ever check back here?"

Stu shrugged.

"Sometimes, it's locked and he doesn't got a key or anything like that; trust rule is here too, except I don't trust him."

"Good one; maybe I should leave though."

"You really don't have to; I kind of don't want you to."

The younger man looked a bit worried and it confused Murdoc like Hell.

"I'll be alright they haven't killed me yet."

Stu still looked worried, it was odd; when did anybody worry about where Murdoc was going to sleep or what would happen once he got inside of his home?

Nobody ever gave a shit about him or what hells awaited him at that place. Maybe he just wanted somebody to worry, but the look of worry was so obvious on the blue haired man's face. It made him feel like he wasn't completely worthless, somebody finally cared.

"Okay I'll stay, only if it'll make you stop having that stupid sad puppy look that you've got going on right now."

The younger man's face lit up, all worry forgotten.

"Great, you can sleep on the floor then."

"You're a bloody great host, mate."

He stood up; he kicked the bottles off to the side then got down on the dirty brown carpeted floor. Stu tossed a pillow down at him.

Even if he was falling asleep on a dirty floor in the house of a religious nut, in a room with some weird punk boy it was a million times better than being at his home hiding in his room with a trunk or chair propped against the door keeping his father out.


	4. Chapter 4

Rain drops hit against his bedroom window, the wind slammed against the house as if nature was trying to destroy the weak structure. Murdoc sat on his bed staring out the window, small glimpses of the currently dark outside world. The house was empty as far as he knew; he knew his father or brother could come home any moment.

He wondered where he would go if he didn't have to come back here. Some days he figured he'd die before the age of twenty-three, by murder or suicide. He couldn't always imagine if anything could change his life, if any glimpse of light could change things and make them better. He was only seventeen and found a majority of his happiness in alcohol; he found comfort in Satanic rituals and songs about dying. He thought about a girl he had shagged last week; he had been looking at her for a month or so now, she was pretty. Not gorgeous or anything unique; just a brown haired girl with green eyes and tan skin, nothing much to look at, but he thought she was pretty. Her friends would taunt him, her boyfriend would beat him, and she'd laugh. Finally she approached him back behind the school where he'd often go to smoke cigarettes; she was acting like an amateur druggie looking to score. She leaned in really close, whispered and asked in a low voice if he wanted to fuck her. He could only agree, not like he'd lie to save what miniscule dignity he liked to believe that he had. She led him into a utility closet, no lights, the door had been locked, and she had made sounds similar to the ones in porn tapes. Nothing real and to be honest with himself she had been dreadful, so fake, every moan, and thrusts on her part had been all show. She hadn't wanted him; she hardly kissed him, and couldn't even look at him.

That's how it went nine out of ten times he would shag a girl; it had to be in a dark empty location, she would fake everything, and afterwards threaten him that her boyfriend would kill him if he spoke a word to anyone about it.

The front door slammed shut sending vibrations through the home. He felt a tingling up his spine and a numbness in his feet, his chest felt heavy, and for a second he wished he had something to pray to.

Heavy footsteps came towards his bedroom stopping outside of the door. He just noticed that he had forgotten to barricade the door.

The door slammed open; Hannibal stumbled into the room looking completely smashed, blood stained the collar of his white shirt. He went up to his younger brother; Murdoc considered running for a second or two, but what good would that do?

Hannibal grabbed a fistful of his hair jerking his head back; the younger man gritted his teeth to keep from yelling out from the pain of it.

"Stupid little queer, dad's friend Jack should have fucking killed you."

He threw Murdoc to the floor, a boot clad foot connected with the younger man's stomach.

Jack was a portly middle aged man with a thinning hairline; a local drug dealer who had been doing business with their father for years now. Back when Murdoc had been about ten his father had left him alone with Jack; that was how good of a parent Sebastian Niccals was, he left his young son alone with a drug dealer. There were stories that Jack liked young boys; Murdoc had hoped it wasn't true, that was until the fat bastard had approached him. He had pinned him against the wall, touched his leg, groped at his crotch whispering disgustingly sexual things to the young boy. Thankfully Murdoc had been smart enough to bite the bastard when he put his filthy fat hand near his mouth. Jack hadn't responded well to the less than willing response; he had taken a switch blade from his jacket pocket and put it to the boy's throat, he had actually started to cut a not too deep line into Murdoc's throat. That's when the door had opened, Sebastian was furious; not because Jack had tried to molest and was going to murder his son, but because Murdoc had let all of it happen.

"You're pathetic and useless just like that whore that gave birth to you."

Another kick to the stomach harder than the last; he remembered when he had been about fourteen and Hannibal had beaten him with a lead pipe.

The older brother picked Murdoc up by the front of his shirt; he slammed him up against the wall glaring down at the younger man.

"I hate you so god damn much."

That was funny, because even at that moment a small part of Murdoc wanted to make his brother like him.

Hannibal spit in his face then punched him in the face again and again; he released his hold on the black haired teen allowing him to drop to the floor.

"I wish you'd just do us a fucking favor and die already."

He felt something cold against his side; he glanced down to see a knife lightly tracing across his now bare side. The blade pressed harder breaking his skin, little cuts going up along his ribs. It stung, but he tasted blood and knew if he screamed he'd probably choke on it. Instead he pressed his sore face to the floor and closed his sore eyes. He felt a weight on top of his body, his breathing quickened and he felt horrified of whatever could happen; jagged nails bit into his arm, crooked teeth bit into the side of his neck hard enough to draw blood. The weight lifted, a kick to his stomach, a kick to his chest, and then it was over. The heavy footsteps disappeared, another door slammed shut signaling that if he wanted to or if he even could then he could get up and even leave if he wanted to.

He rolled over onto his back, he didn't bother opening his eyes; there was nothing worth looking at. Hell maybe he should just fucking die, but life was cruel and it wanted him to suffer this never ending Hell. He didn't want to be in this place, he used to wonder why he was so hated, but after awhile he began do his best to give them a reason to hate him. He didn't want people like them to like him, he didn't want to be around people like this; he just wanted to disappear. He wanted to disappear into the ground underneath him, anywhere was better than here. Just disappear down the rabbit hole; he didn't care if he ended up in Hell, any place was Heaven compared to this.


	5. Chapter 5

He was soaked from the rain; his clothes clung to his skin, his black hair plastered to his face, chills ran through him from the cold, and blood ran down his face and neck from the damage done by his brother. He was so lost and wrapped up in his own misery and pain that he nearly missed the blue haired boy sitting on the ground with his back to the wall of an old record shop and his legs pulled up against himself.

Murdoc stopped and kneeled down in front of the boy, he went to touch his hand, but stopped when he noticed his bruised and blistered knuckles. He opted instead to lightly touch the top of the younger man's head; Stu lifted his head up to look at who was bothering him. His left eye was bruised as well as his right cheek. He looked like he'd been crying; he could be still but with the rain hitting his face it was impossible to tell.

"You look like shit" He whispered giving a sad little laugh.

When he smiled it looked painful, like it killed him to do it.

"I can say the same for you mate, what the hell happened to you?"

"Do you really care or just feel like you have to ask?"

"I care, now tell me what happened."

The younger man sighed; he averted his eyes looking down the vacated street.

"Couple of blokes at school knocked me in the head then locked me in a closet. I kept banging on the door and scratching at it and trying to get out, but it was forever until one of the teachers finally let me out. Then when I got home I was late, my uncle was pissed, and he didn't believe me so he beat on me some. It's not that big of a deal, just stupid fucking pricks you know?"

He wanted to hold him, but he resisted the urge to.

"You been crying?"

The blue haired man looked a bit offended.

"No, of course not; just the stupid rain and my eye hurts and….I haven't been crying."

"It's okay if you are."

"Shut up" He muttered still not looking at the older man.

Murdoc moved to sit beside of him.

"What happened to you? You look a hell of a lot worse than I do."

"I don't wanna talk about it, not here anyways."

"Wanna go some place else?"

"Like where?"

"Maybe your house"

Murdoc shook his head.

"Last fucking place in Hell I want to go, let's just sit here for a while. I kind of like it out here, it's cold."

Stu didn't argue he just leaned his head on the older man's shoulder. It felt nice, comforting; he wrapped his arm around the blue haired man's waist holding him close to his side. He wasn't alone, Stu wasn't alone; they had each other, as long as they had each other they wouldn't be alone.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mind playing look out for a bit?" Stu asked as he sat the bag he'd been carrying around down on the ground, he unzipped it revealing at least ten or more cans of spray paint.

"Sure thing mate"

The older man stood near the end of the alleyway giving casual glances up and down the street hoping nobody would wonder what two teen boys were doing in an alleyway at one in the morning. Everything seemed pretty close to desolate so he figured they would be safe for another hour or so. He pulled the small plastic baggie out of his jeans pocket, opened it, and pulled out a blunt along with his lighter. He lit the end, inhaled, counted to ten then released the white cloud of smoke into the night air.

"Jerk are you holding out on me?"

Stu was looking at him, paint can held in his left hand. Murdoc smirked, he handed the other blunt and his lighter to the blue haired man.

"Where'd you get these from?"

"My dad, I believe I told you he deals drugs."

The younger man laughed.

"Won't he flip the fuck out when he notices you stole some of his stash?"

The black haired man shrugged, he went back to looking at the street and the buildings across from them. He could hear the hiss of the paint can, the air wreaked of paint and pot smoke.

"He'll beat my bloody face in, again."

"You should watch it with that you know, your face is finally starting to get all healed up."

He had noticed that; he hadn't been home for nearly a week now; he'd spent most of his time with Stuart. They even spent one night sleeping in an emptied out dumpster just because neither wanted to go back to their homes, back to people who just wanted to hurt them. Other than that it was usually Stu's uncle's house or the local pubs.

"My face looks about the same without the bruises except shittier."

"Hey you don't look shitty; you got a really beautiful face."

Murdoc laughed, he looked back over his shoulder at the younger man. His eyes were focused on the brick wall before him; paint can in hand, green paint staining his fingertips.

"You gotta be stoned to think I look beautiful."

Stu paused long enough to turn his full attention on Murdoc.

"You look incredible mate; I wouldn't be lying about that."

He was serious, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice said that alone. It gave the black haired teenager chills to know somebody meant that.

Murdoc went back to watching the street and Stu went back to tagging.

"How long have you been doing street art for?"

"Couple years now, always wanted to be like that Banksy bloke. I'm not that good though"

"You don't seem too bad at it to me"

"Thanks, you don't have to keep looking out if you don't want to; I really doubt anyone will be coming around. If they do then we just drop everything and run like Hell."

"Cool, because this whole watching out thing is boring as dog shit."

He went back into the alley going back to what he rather be doing; watch Stu working on his art. He noticed in recent time he liked watching him, not in a creepy way, but he liked noticing things about him. Like the smile lines in the corners of his eyes, the way his hair slowly changed from electric blue to a more aqua shade. He wondered if there was any possibility that the younger man didn't notice Murdoc's staring; it was the same way he wondered why he was so fascinated by his friend.

"It's gonna be June next month, right?"

Murdoc took one last hit from his joint then dropped it to the ground stubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

"Pretty sure that's how the whole month thing works, why?"

"It'll be my birthday soon"

"No shit? Happy early Birthday, I'd get you something but I'm sort of broke as Hell. Could get you weed and beer though, best I can offer."

The younger man laughed; he sat the paint can down then picked up another one.

"Thanks, better than what my uncle is gonna do for me."

"What's he got planned, bible camp?"

"Oh God no, though I went to one of those a few years back."

The older man laughed; Stu turned on him, he pointed the nozzle of the spray can at his shirt and pressed coating Murdoc' shirt with red paint.

"Don't laugh you nob" He said smiling

Murdoc looked down at his stained shirt.

"I'm the nob; you just sprayed me; besides bible camp is funny as fuck. Obviously didn't work though"

The blue haired teen went back to his work.

"Nope and this year I'm getting the bible on tape, a cross necklace, and probably a trip to a fucking church service."

Murdoc shuddered; it sounded horrible, he did feel bad for the guy having to go through all of that shit. All because his family couldn't handle him being gay, he really couldn't understand the big deal with it.

"How about this; my birthday is the sixth, maybe we can just say sod it with the actual date yours is on and celebrate it with mine. Then it can suck a bit less."

"I like that, aren't you doing anything though?"

"Satan no, that's dooms day in my house."

Every year since he could remember his birthday was the day his father would remind him about how he wrecked his life. After a certain period of time he finally forced himself to put the date into the farthest corner of his mind and forget it even existed, sort of like himself.

"That blows, I like us doing our own thing though. Can I ask you something, sort of advice"

"Sure"

"Right so there's this bloke I sort of know, I've run into him at a few different punk shows and I kind of want to ask him out. Think I should do it, because it's gonna suck if it turns out he isn't gay."

Murdoc felt this weird feeling like disappointment, he couldn't understand it.

"Go for it mate, straight or not he should be into you; you're fucking incredible looking."

The younger man laughed, the uneasy feeling of disappointment never left. To some extent it actually killed him to give advice to his friend on asking somebody out, most likely the guy would say no or they'd go out a time or two and that'd be it. Besides Murdoc wasn't gay, so it really shouldn't matter one way or the other if Stu had a boyfriend or went on a date or something like that.

"Thanks; he seems like a real nice bloke, we like a lot of the same bands."

"Cool"

It was a lame response, he knew it was. He thought about how he listened to metal and how Stu listened to punk, how one thought about being a Buddhist while the other was a Satanist through and through. They got along though and every now and again Stu would still flirt with him, touch him, or just look at him like he wanted to do unholy things to him. Ever since they first met the flirting and the looks gave him chills and made him question himself. He knew if he was gay, if he even considered it then his family would butcher him; he couldn't imagine the blood bath that would come of that. It'd be worth it though, if he did really let himself think it through and realize he was attracted to somebody; particularly somebody like Stuart.

"Hey are you zoning out on me?" The younger man asked looking at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Huh? Er yeah sorry, what was it?"

Stu laughed and shook his head.

"I wanted to know what do you think of it?" He asked gesturing towards the wall.

For the most part it was abstract; blacks swirled with greens and reds, off to the side was the image of a face that appeared to be screaming, beneath it was a cross outlined with red and filled in with black.

"It looks fantastic"

Stu smiled shyly; he quickly stuffed the paint cans back inside of the bag and zipped it up.

"Ready to go, maybe back to my uncle's place….We could watch some movies or listen to The Clash if you want, unless you got somewhere better to be."

He seemed so shy all of a sudden, like he was unsure of himself. It gave Murdoc the urge to kiss him and that made him nervous.

"Sounds great, only place I have is school in a few hours, but fuck that place. I rather spend time with you."

The younger man grinned, he looked so beautiful.

He wondered if really had blown his chance months ago or if there was still a glimpse of one. Hell right in that moment he had the chance; in his mind he imagined taking Stu's hand, pulling him against him, and kissing him hard, but the scenario stayed firmly planted inside of his mind. It never played out in reality; instead he wordlessly followed the younger man, nodding and giving short answers when Stu would talk or ask him a question. In his mind he kept on thinking about how he really sort of wanted to kiss him or hold his hand, but he was scared of what that would mean.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I really am very sorry for taking so long to work on this and my other stories, but I promise to make it up. Possibly with multiple updates today.

Ever since Stu began dating this new guy he had spent less time around Murdoc, what else did he expect? It still hurt, it hurt more than when other people left him out of boredom or because something better came along. Stu still talked to him, but often plans were cancelled all because of some jackass he'd been dating for nearly five weeks now. The thing that killed him the most was the day Stu told him he wanted Murdoc to meet this new guy, he thought that he would like him. He wanted to refuse, but it had been a few days since the last time that he had seen the blue haired man and the moment he saw him he felt so far from being himself that he could only nod his head in agreement and allow the blue haired teen to drag him off.

They went to Stuart's uncle's house, per usual the overly religious older man wasn't home; he was away at work, where the teen was supposed to be. In the living room sat a boy who appeared to be close to Murdoc's age, he was tall and scrawny, his hair bleached and cut short, his eyes blue, and skin slightly tan; he wore a black shirt with the sleeves ripped off, blue jeans, and black converses. His eyes lit up when Stuart entered the room, Murdoc's heart broke. He faked a smile when the blonde haired man's eyes landed on him, he wanted to choke him.

"Adam this is Murdoc, my friend I was telling you all about."

"Hey nice to meet you"

"Yeah" Murdoc muttered, he sat down on the couch opposite the one Adam sat on. He did his best to ignore the other male, especially when Stu sat down on Adam's lap wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

There had been countless moments in which he could have said, asked, or done something. Said something poetic even though that wasn't his style in the least, he could have made some romantic move like in those wretched romance films all the girls in his school enjoyed watching. Instead he had let every opportunity pass him by, now here he was staring down at the off white carpet gritting his teeth and wishing to be dead instead of here.

"You okay?" Stu asked sounding concerned.

The black haired teen looked in the other man's direction.

"Yeah I'm fine just er my side hurts some you know from my brother."

It wasn't a lie, his side really did hurt; before going to bed last night Hannibal had thrown him to the ground and kicked him in the side repeatedly to the point he expected a bone or two to break.

"Do you want something for it, I can give you one of my pain killers."

The concern was evident in the blue eyed man's voice, he looked so worried, but he still sat there on Adam's lap. His arms were still around the blonde haired man, his head still resting on his chest; Hell maybe there never really had been a chance for something to happen between the two of them. Lately he felt as if he was becoming second place, maybe it was all in his head.

"No I'm fine, look I need to go home; I'll see you later."

Both men watched as Murdoc quickly left the house slamming the door shut behind him. A small part of him would have liked Stu to chase after him, but it didn't happen and why would it?

He didn't want to go home, but there weren't many other places to go. At least his father wouldn't be home, the bastard would be gone for a day or two on 'business'. That just left him all alone with Hannibal, it wasn't a fun thought; it scared him honestly, he noticed his brother acting differently lately. He'd always been violent and deranged, but lately it seemed worse; these were things the younger man wished he could talk to somebody about, but like always there was nobody there to listen or to care. It wasn't like Stuart cared, like he would listen; he had some stupid Punk guy to busy himself with now.

Murdoc sighed heavily; he quietly entered the home, he closed the door behind him making as little sound as possible. He felt like an intruder in what should be his own home and oh how he hated this, he hated all of this. As he approached his own room he heard heavy footsteps, a moment later somebody had a fistful of his hair jerking his head back. He felt hot breath against the side of his neck, he shut his eyes tightly; he twisted and growled feeling the burning little shocks of pain go through his scalp as he struggled to get out of the other man's grip.

"Hey little brother"

"Let me go you fucking bastard"

Hannibal laughed, he gave another hard jerk to Murdoc's hair causing the teen to cry out in pain. He released the younger man's hair, he moved his hand down to his neck wrapping his fingers around his younger brother's throat. He pulled Murdoc's body back against his own, he placed his free hand on the younger man's stomach. Murdoc kept his eyes tightly shut; he prayed for this to end, possibly in the form of death.

"You've always been a little queer haven't you, if dad knew he'd kill ya."

Hannibal was drunk, the black haired boy could smell the alcohol on his breath. He tried to pull free of his brother, but it only caused him to dig the tips of his fingers harder against his throat. The older man ran his tongue along the shell of his younger brother's ear.

"Let me go, let me the fuck go!"

The older man laughed, he threw Murdoc into the door. The teenager slid to the ground shaking, tears scrolling down his cheeks as he gasped for air.

Hannibal turned and left leaving the younger man curled up on the ground crying. He felt as if he was going crazy, he felt so alone and so far from safety. His hands covered his face shielding him from his surroundings, he could hear Hannibal in the kitchen going through cabinets in search of alcohol. He could hear the rain pounding against the outside of the house, it always rained when he wanted to die.


	8. Chapter 8

He had to get out of his home, get away from Hannibal and the other nightmares that were in that place. Rain soaked his clothes and plastered his hair to his face, he felt cold, but he didn't mind it. He shivered and it was only partially from the dreary weather; he couldn't stop thinking about the things Hannibal had said to him, the way he had touched him and the way he possibly could have...It was so horrible to think about, his legs felt weak, and new tears fell from his blood shot eyes. His breaths came out shaky, he felt so tired; he felt so weighed down and all alone in this horrible dreary world. He turned down a nearby alleyway, he sat down on the wet ground, he pulled his legs up against himself and allowed himself to cry.

"Mudsy?"

He felt himself tense, he rubbed his hands over his face wiping away the tears and the rain. He looked up to see Stu standing before him, he looked down at the older teenager seeming concerned.

"What do you want?"

The words came out harsher than he had meant, he wanted to say he was sorry but to some degree he wasn't.

"Why are you out here in the rain?"

"I like it" he muttered looking away from the blue haired man.

Stuart sat down across from him.

"Have you been crying?"

"No, I don't fucking cry." He glared at the other man.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not making fun of you. What happened, you look really scared."

"Shouldn't you be with your stupid boyfriend?"

Stu looked away and shrugged.

"I don't gotta be with him all the time you know, besides I care more about you."

Murdoc's throat felt dry, he felt light headed, and sick. He wished that everything could just go away.

"I think, I think my brother tried to molest me." he whispered his words coming out choked.

Saying it made his stomach turn, it made his chest feel tight, and it made new tears fall from his eyes as he stared off into the distance.

"What, when?"

"Little over an hour ago, he's been acting so messed up and he keeps and...I wanted to fucking talk to you about it, but you and that..."

He felt confused, he buried his face in his hands.

"Christ, why didn't you tell me? I would have let you stay with me, you don't have to stay there. Jesus, why didn't you?"

"You don't care, I know you don't." He snapped finally meeting the younger man's eyes.

He felt guilty once the words left his mouth and he saw that hurt look cross Stuart's face.

"I didn't mean that" he whispered looking away again.

The blue haired man reached a hand out gently touching Murdoc's cheek.

"I know, I care more than you know. Talk to me, please I want to do something; please just talk to me."

He had trouble looking the other man in the eye, had trouble bringing himself to talk.

"This guy my dad used to know, back when I was younger; I was left alone with this bloke and he started touching and trying to kiss me. I-he tried to slit my throat cause I wouldn't let him and when my dad found out he blamed me for coming onto the bastard. Hannibal told me dad would...He's gonna tell dad that I'm gay, he's going to tell him that I've been doing stuff and...I don't fucking know what to do, I'm scared to go home Stu."

"It's going to be okay, you don't got to go back there; you can stay with me, it'll be okay." the younger man whispered attempting to soothe his friend.

His fingers lightly traced along the older man's tear stained skin, he pushed back locks of wet black hair giving himself a better view of the scared man before him, the one that looked so fragile and lost.

"Don't cry, I've got you."

Murdoc brought himself to look Stu in the eye, he felt so ashamed and terrified of so many things. He focused on the hand on his cheek, the comfort he was finding in the younger man's gentle touch.

"I'm fucking terrified"

"I know, it'll be alright; I swear to God I won't let anything happen to you."

They both stared at one another, both feeling so nervous and unsure; Stu could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he stared into the older man's brown eyes. He hated himself for ignoring his friend, for not being there when he needed him the most; for being so concerned with some stupid guy he met at a rock show instead of somebody who needed him more, somebody he needed himself. He felt so guilty, he felt like taking away all of his pain; God he wished there was a way he could do such a thing. His fingers trailed back through Murdoc's hair, he waited the other man to shove him away; he'd understand it completely, but instead Murdoc placed his hand over Stu's holding him there.

Stu leaned forward bringing his face close to Murdoc's, he waited for some signal telling him to go ahead or forget it completely. The older man tightened his grip on Stu's hand, he leaned in pressing his lips to the black haired man's in a gentle kiss. A mere moment of hesitation and Murdoc kissed him back, he wrapped his arms around the younger man pulling him to him.

"You'll be safe now" Stu whispered before kissing him again.

They sat in that alleyway, between kisses the blue haired man would whisper to him that everything would be fine now.


	9. Chapter 9

That night Murdoc had gone home with Stu, they had gone back to the blue haired boy's bedroom, and shared his bed. Murdoc had slept with the younger man's arms wrapped firmly around his waist and his head resting against his chest. He had felt so safe there so foreign being in somebody else's arms; exhaustion over came him pushing him into sleep. He was jolted awake by the sound of a door slamming; for a moment he forgot he wasn't in his home and had jerked away from Stu. The younger man woke up, he noticed the older teen's distress; he took hold of Murdoc's hand rubbing his thumb across his knuckles. Murdoc looked at the younger teen, he visibly relaxed as he realized he was safe and far away from his home.

"It's okay, go back to sleep; it's just my uncle going to work, you're fine." He whispered.

The black haired man nodded, he lay back down with the younger man, Stu pulled Murdoc close to him.

"I don't wanna go back there."

Stuart kissed the top of his head, he moved his hand soothingly up and down the older man's bare back.

"You don't have to, stay as long as you want."

Murdoc gave a small smile, he glanced up at the blue haired man.

"You might regret saying that if I never leave."

Stu kissed him, "I want you, always"

Murdoc smiled at the words, at the loving way that those blue eyes looked at him; he kissed the younger man. He didn't know how long always or forever really were or could be, but he wanted to see how long they could last; he wanted to see how long he could cling onto this happiness. He just wanted some comfort, somebody to want or to need him, and to tell him that he didn't deserve the life that he had been dealt.

He fell back to sleep curled up against Stuart's side, he never wanted to go back to his home; he wanted to be with Stuart for as long as he could manage. He just wanted to know what happiness could feel like, even if it was just for a little bit.


	10. Chapter 10

Murdoc woke late the following morning, he felt dazed for a minute as he looked around the vaguely familiar bedroom. He remembered all too well what all had happened the night before, but it was still odd anytime that he woke in a place that wasn't his own room. At least he wasn't sleeping in an alleyway or in the park like he'd normally do after some family related crisis had taken place, no this time he had fallen asleep in a comfortable bed in a place that was safe. He looked at the empty space next to him, he felt a bit disappointed; he remembered he had woken with a start earlier at the sound of a door closing, he remembered Stuart comforting him. He had felt so secure and happy falling asleep in the blue haired man's arms, it confused him about himself. Why did he have to question anything though?

He got up from the bed; he picked his shirt up from the floor and put it on. He slipped on his boots and left the room in search of the other man. In the kitchen he found Stuart leaning back against the counter, his arms were wrapped around Adam's neck holding the blonde close to him as they kissed one another. Murdoc felt a pain in his chest as he watched the display before him; hadn't Stu been kissing him last night?

Telling him that everything would be alright, that he had him and he cared for him? Now there he was with his arms around some bleached blonde asshole. It was dumb to think it really meant anything, to think that Stu would want to be with him; hell maybe there really had never been a chance in the first place.

Murdoc cleared his throat, the sound caught the attention of the other two men; Stu's eyes widened, he quickly backed away from Adam. He looked like he wanted to say anything, to explain the situation, but Murdoc merely smiled at him as if to tell him to save it.

"When did you get in mate?" Adam asked completely oblivious to the building tension between the other two men.

"I spent the night, I had a bit of a fight with my brother and Stu here let me stay over."

"Nice of him, I just stopped by to see if he wanted to come to a show with me tonight." The blonde said smiling at Stu, he wrapped his arm around the blue haired man's waist pulling him close to his side.

Stu couldn't even look Murdoc in the eye, he stared down at the ground seeming embarrassed and utterly ashamed. Murdoc wondered if he was ashamed of this situation at this moment or the fact that he had kissed him the night before, of course he was't interested in the black haired man. Who the hell would be interested in such a miserable being?

"Yeah he is real nice, you got a good bloke. I think I should be heading off, maybe go back home."

The blue haired man's head shot up.

"What, I thought er you know...I told you to stay here as long as you need to."

He sounded so worried and concerned, Murdoc didn't feel like he could believe a word of it. It wasn't like he really wanted to go back home, if Hannibal were there who knew what could happen, and if his father was there even worse things could happen to him. He didn't want to be here though, he didn't want to stand around watching Stu and Adam kissing and holding onto each other all the while wondering why it was happening. Wondering why the Hell Stu had shown him so much affection last night and now he was back to...Back to nothing, back in his stupid boyfriend's arms like literally nothing had happened between the two of them.

"Yeah well I should go back there, besides you probably want some time alone with your boyfriend."

The younger man looked uncomfortable as if he wanted to say or do something to make Murdoc stay, but he couldn't think of anything. He couldn't think of anything that wouldn't make Adam suspicious; Murdoc felt further disgusted by the situation. He shook his head feeling baffled by this, by how Stu could be so fucking thick; without another word spoken he left the house. He didn't care what Hannibal did to him or how badly his father beat him, he just wanted away from Stuart.


	11. Chapter 11

Life back at home was such Hell for him; he nearly felt like a moron for going back to such a place. He was angry and he was hurt though, he had no other place to run to. The moment he had gotten home he had been cornered and beaten by his brother, the next morning when he went to the kitchen he had been beaten again by his brother. Night was worse than the day though, because at night was when his brother wanted to do more than to insult and to beat on him. Every morning Murdoc would stand in the shower cursing himself for being such an idiot, he would scrub his skin raw in fruitless attempts to wash away the places Hannibal would touch him. No his brother hadn't gone too far, not yet, but he knew that it would happen; for some reason he wished just a tiny bit that their father would come home soon, maybe if he was home then all of this would stop. It was a pathetic little thought, a pathetic ray of hope that he knew better than; he made sure to do quick work of vanishing such a thought from his mind.

He hadn't seen or heard from Stuart since the last time he had seen him. He thought about the man; thought about how much he had trusted him, how tightly he had held onto him because he had been so scared of what would happen once he let go. He never should have let go, because if he had kept holding on he never would have ended up back in this Hell of his. He missed him, he missed him so damn much, but it really wasn't worth the pain. It wasn't worth loving somebody who was with somebody else, somebody who could tell him and do such sweet things in the dark but come day it was like nothing had ever happened. That's what the girls at school had done to him; they could compliment and touch him in dark spaces, but the moment they left those places he was nothing to him. Stuart knew that, he knew how Murdoc felt about his own sexuality, and about Hannibal; yet he still could fuck him over in this way.

He did his best to put the blue haired man out of his mind, because he kept on telling himself that he didn't need him. He didn't need anybody, people were trash; if he repeated this enough then it'd become fact instead of a constantly repeated lie.

The black haired teenager sat on his bed reading through a book he had bought off of a filthy looking old man outside of a local record shop. It was a book with all sorts of myths and supposed facts about Hell and incantations; there were even rituals that could help a man stop feeling for anybody or anything, make him completely dead on the inside. Sort of like the zombies in those movies that Stuart always enjoyed watching. He really needed to stop thinking about the idiot, the lying too skinny fucking idiot.

The door to his room flew open, the knob hitting hard enough against the wall to break a hole into the wall. Hannibal came into the room moving quicker when he saw Murdoc try to get off of the bed, he lunged on the younger man pinning him to the bed. He placed one knee between the black haired man's legs, his hands gripped tightly to his wrists. His breath wreaked of alcohol just like every time that he did things like that; his hazy eyes were locked on his brother's and he could almost see the sick sadistic thoughts swirling around in his psychotic mind.

"Get off of me, you fucking prick." He growled angrily as he thrashed around in an attempt to throw the older man off of him.

Hannibal released one wrist, but quickly grabbed at it; with his free hand he hit Murdoc hard across the face.

"Shut up you know how this works, struggling doesn't help you much."

"Why do you keep doing this to me, can't you go find someone else to fuck with?"

"Nobody else wants you, ya think you'd be more grateful."

Before the younger man could get another word in his brother was kissing him roughly. He felt sick to his stomach, he felt like screaming; he felt a sharp hit of pain when Hannibal bit down on his lower lip breaking the skin. His screams and cries were muffled when the older man's tongue pushed into his unwilling mouth, he twisted and pulled trying to free his hands. He kicked and flailed but with every attempt at getting away Hannibal pressed more firmly against him pinning him down against the bed. Hannibal kissed down his neck biting hard making the younger man whimper from the pain, he forgot himself for a moment and released his hold on Murdoc's wrists. The younger man took the opportunity to punch Hannibal hard in the face; the older man pulled back quickly giving Murdoc enough time to get off of the bed and run towards the door. He was grabbed by the back of the shirt, swung around, and thrown to the floor. Hannibal was back on top of him pulling his shirt off of him, he hit and slapped at the older man as he attempted to kick him off. Hannibal ground his hips down against him letting the other man know this was only arousing him further; Murdoc did the only two things he could do in this situation which were crying and screaming. He closed his eyes tightly trying to take his mind any place but here, any place less disgusting and scary as this. Sharp teeth bit into his chest and his stomach, jagged nails cut along his sides and a hand pressed against his crotch.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

Murdoc opened his eyes and Hannibal quickly got to his feet. Sebastian Niccals stood in the doorway his angry dark eyes set on Murdoc.

"You what the hell have you been doing with your brother?" He asked pointing at the younger boy.

"Wha-"

He felt confused, he hadn't done anything; hadn't his father seen what had happened?

"He got me drunk and was taking advantage of me, I tried to get the little faggot to stop it." Hannibal said, he kicked the younger man hard in the side.

"He tried to rape me, he's been doing this for over a week!" Murdoc yelled as he attempted to stand.

His father hit him in the chest with the end of his cane knocking the teenager back to the ground.

"I'm tired of your lies."

Another hit was delivered to Murdoc followed by another and another until he was curled up in a ball on the floor with his hands over his head shielding his face from the wrath of his father. He wanted to disappear more than anything in this moment. Somebody grabbed a fistful of his hair dragging him to his feet, his father shoved him up against a wall; he punched the boy hard in the face.

"You repulse me"

"I didn't do anything"

Sebastian hit him in the mouth.

"Don't lie boy, I'm sick of this. I want you out of here, now and never return."

He grabbed Murdoc by the throat and tossed him to the ground; with that Sebastian and Hannibal left the room. The teenager lay there on the floor bleeding and crying softly; he gave himself one minute to feel the throbbing pain and the misery, once the minute was up he crawled unsteadily to his feet, pulled on his boots and crawled out of his bedroom window. He never bothered with personal items, a shirt or anything else; he didn't care, he didn't care how ice cold the rain felt as it hit against his bare torso. He didn't care how badly the wind burned against his open wounds; he didn't care that everybody who was out walking or driving was staring at him and whispering behind his back. He didn't care if somebody killed him or if lightening struck him dead right then and there, because at least then he would be free of this misery. Even if he went straight to Hell to be tortured by the hands of Devils it would be a better fate than the one he had endured in his nearly eighteen years of life. He wondered if he could even live to see twenty and if he even wanted to do such a ridiculous thing.

It wasn't until he started noticing vaguely familiar looking homes that he realized which direction he was walking in. He thought about turning around or going down a different street than the one he knew he was going to go down, because the last thing he needed to do was go _there_. He kept on going though, kept on going in the direction of a place that he hadn't been in over a week; a place he wasn't really sure he wanted to go, but he was so desperate and scared and out of his mind in that moment that he didn't care where he ended up.

He arrived at the house; its boring white exterior, perfectly kept grass, and no car in the lot. He dragged himself to the front steps of the house, managed to knock once before falling to the ground passing out.


	12. Chapter 12

There was this startling moment upon waking where he didn't remember much of anything. This moment where he felt confused as to why he was soaking wet, this moment where his body felt paralyzed with pain, and he felt confused by whatever surface he was lying on. The moment passed leaving him dazed and confused, he managed to open his sore eyes, he looked to the side to see Stuart sitting there beside him his eyes focused on him. The blue haired boy smiled a little bit when he noticed the older teen waking up.

"You brought me inside?" He asked his voice hoarse.

The events from earlier raced through his mind only adding to the pounding sensation. He felt sick when he remembered the way Hannibal had been touching him and just how far it was going to go if it hadn't been for their father interrupting

"Of course I did; you were passed out on my fucking door step, I'm not that much of a cunt."

Murdoc smiled weakly.

"What happened to you, you look like a truck ran over you."

"You should be used to me looking this bad by now." He said attempting to sit up, a sharp pain shot through him at the sudden movement; he groaned then lay back down on the mattress.

"Don't move, nothing is broken but you're bruised to hell and back."

"You didn't have to bring me in."

He hadn't meant to go to Stuart's house, but he'd been scared and subconsciously he'd known this was the safest and the only place for him to go. He hated that, but there was still this feeling of safety filling him.

"Yeah I did, tell me what happened."

He gave a sad little smile and looked away, he felt that turning in his stomach again; he didn't dare look the other man in the eye as he told him what had happened. He knew it wasn't his fault that Hannibal had been doing these things to him, he knew it was nothing that he provoked or deserved, but he still felt so filthy and wrong.

"This whole time since the first time I told you about, Hannibal's been touching me and doing stuff to me...This time he was really messed up and I was trying to get him off of me, I really did try, but he wouldn't give up. If dad hadn't walked in on us, he would have...He would have done it, he was really going to fucking do it this time."

He felt himself tremble and the burning of tears in his eyes.

Stuart began gently running his fingers through the brown eyed man's hair, Murdoc fought the urge to flinch at the gentle touch. He wanted nothing more than for Stuart to touch him, but he felt so undeserving of it and then he thought about the guy that the blue haired man was dating and how pissed off he was at him.

"I shouldn't have let you leave, God Murdoc...What did your dad do?"

"Blamed me, said I was provoking him and lured him into. He fucking saw us; I was on the damned floor struggling and crying and he fucking said I was the one doing it, doing everything. I didn't do anything, I just wanted him away from me."

Tears fell from his eyes, he placed his hand over his face hiding away from the other man. He felt like he had to defend himself, he felt that everybody would blame him and believe he had done something to cause what had happened.

Stu pulled him into a sitting position, he pulled Murdoc against him cradling the older man in his arms. Murdoc wrapped his arms around the younger man's neck, he buried his face against his chest crying and muttering.

"Shh it's okay; it's going to be okay, you don't have to convince me. I know you didn't do anything, you did nothing wrong; come on luv I won't let anything happen to you, not ever again."

"Stop pretending you care."

"I'm not pretending"

Murdoc pulled back and looked up at the younger man.

"What about your boyfriend?"

The blue haired man looked slightly ashamed at the mention of the man he had been dating.

"I broke up with him after you left that day, I told him it wasn't working. I should have done it sooner, I probably shouldn't have dated him in the first place. That's not important though, not now; I just want to know you're alright and that you're never going back there."

"Where else could I go?"

"Stay here, hell live here"

"Yeah your uncle would love that."

"Forget him, forget your brother, your dad, and everybody; it's just us, that's it."

Murdoc smiled, he rest his head against the younger man's chest again.

"Us, we're all we've got aren't we?"

Stuart kissed the top of his head.

"That's all we need until you get sick of me."

"That'll never happen...Stu?"

"Yeah mate?"

The older man sighed heavily, he felt nervous and scared of rejection and being pushed away. There was so much happening, so much scaring and bothering him. He hadn't felt this scared since he was little, but he was clinging so desperately to this small thread of comfort.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." He whispered his voice shaky.

When there was no response he pulled back and looked up at the younger man scared of what he'd see.

Stu smiled down at him, he lightly caressed his fingertips over the older man's bruised right cheek.

"I think I'm falling too" He pressed his lips against the black haired man's in a gentle kiss.

He lay down on the bed with Murdoc curled up against his side, his crying stopped and his breathing evened out as he fell into a slightly more peaceful state of sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

"How are you feeling?"

He let out a small sigh, most of his focus was placed on the fingers running through his hair. His head was resting on the younger man's lap, his body still ached, and horrible still fresh memories made him startle at nearly anything even unexpected touches by a man he trusted more than himself.

"Horrible, I feel bad making you deal with this shit."

"Don't feel bad darling, I like knowing you're safe."

Murdoc moved so that he was now sitting, moving hurt, but pain killers seemed to ease the pain enough to make it tolerable. He wondered what would happen when Stuart's uncle found out that he was here, he knew the man would find out eventually; unless he was completely dull and ignored his nephew that thoroughly, but Murdoc doubted that. There was a fear for him that the man would send him back home, possibly even forcibly drag him back to that place and tell Sebastian and Hannibal what the teenager had been doing with Stuart. He felt himself tense at the thought of how enraged his father would be at finding out for sure his son was attracted to men or at least he thought that he was; he knew Hannibal would hurt him, he'd never be able to escape that place not alive anyways.

Stu placed his hand over Murdoc's giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey what's the matter?"

"I'm scared and confused"

"About what?"

Murdoc pulled his hand away from the younger man.

"I'm going to take a shower, do you mind?"

The blue haired man looked confused, but nodded opting not to question the older any further.

Murdoc got up from the bed and left the room, he knew they had the rest of the night to themselves so there were no worries about Stuart's uncle coming home to find the dingy black haired boy in his home, especially in his shower.

Once inside of the small bathroom he locked the door behind him, he smiled to himself liking being in a place where every door had a lock; every room offered privacy and security. The bathroom was cleaner than the one at his home, though the blue pastel colored walls and the off white bath tub were painfully distasteful. It was clean, it was private, and he knew nobody was waiting on the other side of the door to attack him; yet paranoia and little foolish fears still danced around his head. He stripped out of his dirty and torn blue jeans and his boxer briefs, he turned the water on watching as it sprayed down from the shower head. The house was so quiet, he felt bad for being so off with Stu, but he wasn't ready to talk about things; especially when he hadn't the slightest clue what things he needed to talk about.

What did he need to talk about?

He knew he was attracted to the man; he'd found him interesting and attractive, even a bit charming ever since he first met him. Strange how nearly every time he ran into him it was usually after one of the countless worst moments of his life. Stuart never minded though, even when he had hardly known him, but the idea of being attracted to a man still worried him. He just kept thinking back to what that filthy old man had done to him when he had been a child, his father's blunt homophobia, and the way his brother had been molesting him in recent time. He was at the point where he craved some positive physical contact, but it scared him to think about what it meant.

"Stupid, stupid idiot over thinking everything." He muttered scolding himself as he stepped into the tub standing under the spray of water.

He didn't want to push Stu away, he wanted to pull him closer.

It felt odd the prospect of staying in this house for an extended period of time, he knew eventually Stu's uncle would find out about Murdoc; not only that he was staying there, but that he was in love with his nephew. He could only imagine how angry the man would be at that and he knew it'd all be taken out on Stuart, he didn't want to put him through that; maybe he shouldn't stay, not that long anyway. He hated not having anywhere else to go, two places and either one had bad results.

Once he had washed the blood and the dirt from his skin and hair he turned off the water and got out of the tub. He wrapped a towel around his waist and left the room being careful as he made his way back to Stu's bedroom. The teen was still sitting on the bed, music played quietly on the stereo in the corner of the room, he looked up when the older man entered the room.

"Er do you have any clothes I can borrow, I think we're about the same size." Murdoc asked feeling stupid having to borrow clothes from his friend.

Stu gave a small smile, he got up from the bed and went over to his closet pulling out a t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans; he handed them to the older man.

"I'll be outside so you can get dressed."

He hadn't actually expected the blue haired man to leave the room; he knew normal people did such things, it was common. He wasn't used to normal though, in his home he had to shove furniture up against the door in order to get dressed or to do anything really. He dressed quickly then told the blue haired man he could come back in. They sat together on the bed in relative silence, Murdoc kept staring down at the red and black comforter tracing invisible patterns with his fingertips.

"I don't think I should stay here, I don't wanna get in the way or get you in trouble with your uncle."

"What, don't worry about that; I don't give a toss about him and you're never in my way."

"I just don't know if it's a good idea." He whispered feeling nervous again.

"Muds what's going on?"

"It's nothing, okay?" He said slightly annoyed.

"You're real stubborn sometimes, y'know?"

The older man smirked at the comment.

"Charming isn't it?"

"Not at the moment, it's just frustrating."

Murdoc shrugged.

Stuart placed his index and middle finger beneath the older man's chin lifting his head so that he had to meet his eyes.

"Talk to me, come on"

"I'm scared"

"Of what, of me?" He asked sounding a bit hurt.

"No of course not; I'm just, it's complicated I think or maybe I'm just making it that way. I like you a lot and I think I want to be with you, but I haven't exactly had positive experience when it comes to blokes and when you touch me lately I have to tell myself not to jerk away or get nervous. I know you won't hurt me and I know you get that and you understand or you try to, but I'm still really scared."

He felt slightly better saying at least half of it, even if when the words were spoken he realized he did sound stupid. He wondered just how stupid the other man thought that he was being.

"We'll take our time, with everything; I just want you to be comfortable and happy, yeah it sucks a bit when you flinch when I touch you but I know it's because of what other guys have done to you. I get it, don't act so ashamed of it."

The other man's voice was gentle, understanding; it made Murdoc's body relax, Stuart slowly brushed his knuckles against the black haired man's bruised cheek. He allowed Stu to touch him, he felt too relaxed and too relieved at the moment to feel anything outside of comfort.

"Can I kiss you?"

Murdoc nodded, the younger man smiled before leaning in and pressing his lips against the older man's.

He didn't know how long it would take for the physical wounds to heal or for the emotional ones to fade to minor scars, he didn't know how long Stu would want to deal with this, how long he could stay here, or how long until it all fell to shit. The thoughts slipped away at the feeling of Stu's lips against his, the feeling of his fingers caressing his skin, his fingers moving to his neck just barely touching the still sore bite marks scarring his flesh. When the kiss ended he leaned his forehead against the other man's.

"I love you" He whispered.

Stu pressed a quick kiss against his forehead.

"I love you too" He whispered, he kissed the older man again, they repeated the words to each other between kisses.

Love never lasted and it was terrifying, but he was willing to enjoy it for however long he could drag it on.


	14. Chapter 14

He learned to hate sleeping; it didn't take too long really, after being kicked out of his own house and after all of the things that had happened. Nightmares suffocated him late at night, every sound caused him to flinch or startle; his nightmares caused him to wake in fits of fear. Around three in the morning they were at their worst, even if he woke up to realize he was safe, and to the feeling of Stuart's arms wrapped securely around his waist and his face nuzzled against his back; even then he still felt the fear of his nightmares plaguing his mind. He'd slip out of the younger man's arms, slip on his jeans, grab his lighter and cigarettes then make his way outside. He was grateful that the blue haired man's uncle rarely was home, Satan knew where the man spent most of his time; supposedly work, friends, dates, and church related rubbish. At least it gave the black haired teen the ability to go in and out of the house without really sneaking past anyone. He would stand out on the doorstep smoking and looking at the early morning sky; it was always so damn cold at this time of day.

He avoided really leaving the house, the furthest he'd go was the end of the lawn; he had this paranoia that Hannibal was out looking for him, it was silly.

"You're gonna get sick coming out here without a shirt or socks."

He looked back over his shoulder to see Stu standing in the doorway, he still looked half asleep.

"Go back to bed"

The younger man shook his head in refusal, he walked over to the brown eyed man.

"Nightmares?" He asked taking the cigarette from Murdoc, he watched as the blue haired man took a drag from the stick; he blew the smoke out into the early morning air then handed the stick back to the older man.

"Yeah"

Stuart draped an arm around the older man's shoulders, he leaned against his side burying his face against the crook of his neck.

"Wanna talk about them?"

"They're the same as always, not much to talk about is there?"

He moved away from the younger man, he walked out onto the lawn mildly enjoying the feeling of the wet grass beneath his bare feet. He sat down on the ground, one last drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in a bare patch on the ground. He pulled his legs up against himself, he looked out at the road and the homes on the other side of it. Stu sat down beside of him this time keeping a bit of space between them.

"You ever think some people are just born with shit luck?" Murdoc asked breaking the silence between them.

The younger man gave a sad little laugh.

"The two of us seem to be, but we got each other so I guess that's sort of lucky...I think so anyways."

"I keep waiting for something bad to happen."

"Why focus on the bad all the time?"

He looked over at the blue haired man, Stuart smiled at him.

"We both have had a lot of shit happen to us, a lot, and God it's bloody terrible isn't it? We're not even fucking adults and we've been through pure Hell, but we're alive and right now you're safe and I'm pretty happy for once."

"Aren't you usually happy?"

"No not really, honestly I'm usually bloody miserable. You've seen me be weird, I've even cried myself to sleep sometimes. I've been happy lately though, having you here with me; yeah I worry that maybe you're not as happy or that you don't get the same happy feeling around me, but I'm still enjoying this. Things can only get better, can't they?"

Murdoc inched closer to the younger man, he felt like being near him now.

"How do you know things get better?"

"Cause I like to be positive about things, keep my hopes up, and having you around helps."

"Really how am I helpful to you?" He asked smiling a bit.

He liked the way the younger man looked at him, his light, and his energy. Stu moved so that he was now sitting on the older man's lap, Murdoc leaned back looking up at him; he couldn't help but grin at the blue haired man.

"You make me feel useful. God you got any clue how beautiful you look?" He whispered as he lightly brushed his fingers against the older man's cheek.

"Liar" Murdoc said laughing

He lay back on the lawn pulling Stu down with him, he wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist.

"I'm serious Mudsie, you're fucking brilliant."

He kissed him, Murdoc nipped at his lower lip.

"Not sure 'bout me, but you're beautiful as all Hell and back. I'm happy being around you mate."

They kissed again a bit more firmly this time, he ran his fingers through the younger man's soft blue hair.

"Think we should move from the lawn, y'know before my uncle pulls in or someone drives by."

Stu kissed him once more before climbing to his feet, he offered his hand to the older man, Murdoc took it gratefully allowing the younger man to pull him to his feet. They went back inside of the home and back to Stuart's bedroom locking the door behind them, they crawled back into bed; Stuart curled up against the older man his head resting against his chest.

"Love you" He muttered

Murdoc kissed the top of his head. "I love you too Stu-Pot"

He lay there for a bit absentmindedly rubbing his hand up and down the younger man's back listening as his breathing calmed as he fell back to sleep. About five minutes later he heard the front door open then shut, the noise startled him just the slightest bit causing his heart to beat a little faster. He felt the blue haired man stir against him, his fingers curling and uncurling against his side. He forced himself to relax again; he closed his eyes taking steadying breaths, he wondered if what the younger man had said was right that everything could only get better from here.


	15. Chapter 15

"Happy birthday pet"

Murdoc was sitting on the sofa staring blankly at the television set, the sound of Stu's voice from behind him followed by something being dangled before his face distracted him. When he caught focus of the object he noticed it was a metal inverted cross dangling from a silver chain, he took the offered necklace from the blue haired man.

"Where'd you get something like this?"

Stu sat down next to him smiling down at the older man.

"Made it myself actually, found some scrap metal; made it the other night, you like it?"

"I love it, this is the second nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." He said smiling up at the other man, he slipped the chain over his neck, he looked down at the cross that was now resting against his chest.

"What's the first?"

"You letting me stay here and bother you for the past couple weeks." He replied grinning at him.

Stu wrapped his arms around the black haired man hugging him.

"You haven't bothered me at all, I love having you around; I really do." He whispered against his ear.

"I love you"

"Love you too" The blue haired man whispered before kissing him.

He loved the feeling of the younger man's lips on his; he loved he was beginning to get to the point where Stu could touch him and he wouldn't flinch or go tense on him. He'd even gotten to the point where they could take things a bit further, his wounds from his home life were healing, and having somebody there to deal with all of his issues helped him so much.

Stu's fingers ran through his hair as he deepened the kiss nipping at the older man's lower lip. Murdoc placed his hands on the other man's hips pulling him over onto his lap, the younger man smiled into the kiss.

He didn't tense or hesitate when he felt the blue haired man's hands slip under the front of his shirt, his calloused fingers brushing against his bare skin; if anything the contact felt amazing, it made him feel cared for being touched in this way. Stu was so gentle with him, like he wanted him to know that this could feel good; he wanted Murdoc to feel good, to feel safe. It was one of the things that he loved the most about the Punk boy, it had been years since anybody cared about his safety.

"I love you so much" Stu whispered against the side of his neck, his lips brushed over his skin sending shivers down his spine. He tilted his head to the side allowing the younger male more access.

He felt him kissing and lightly biting at his neck, Murdoc moved them so that Stu was now laying back on the couch; he straddled the blue haired man's waist smiling down at him.

"Dominant are we?" He asked smirking up at the black haired man.

"It's in my nature love"

Murdoc captured Stu's lips in a passionate kiss, the younger man gave a little moan. He pressed himself against the other man's body, he wanted to feel him, he wanted to be as close to him as was humanly possible. He gave a bit of a groan when he felt Stu give his hair a tug, the kiss turned a bit rougher, his own hands travelling up under the blue haired man's shirt nails lightly raking over his skin.

"What the Hell is going on here?"

Both men went tense at the sound of the far beyond angered voice. Murdoc pulled away and Stu's eyes went wide; before them stood a tall slightly over weight male with thinning brown hair, his face was red with anger as he glared between the two teenage boys.

"Un-uncle Norm it's..."

"Shut your filthy mouth, I've done everything I can for you boy and you dare do something this disgusting in my home?"

He went over to Stuart grabbing the teen by the arm, he yanked him up from the couch; Murdoc stood up making to do something to make him get off of the blue haired teen who looked like he was bordering on crying at any moment.

"You stay back, you filthy queer." The older man yelled as he glared at the black haired man.

He stopped and watched as Stu's uncle hit him across the face hard enough to knock him to the floor. Murdoc didn't even think about it, he went up and punched the older man in the face.

"Murdoc don't"

He turned his attention to Stu who was sitting on the floor rubbing at his reddened cheek, in that distracted moment Norm punched the brown eyed man hard enough to knock him to the floor.

"You get out of my house, never come here again, and as for you." He said turning back to his nephew.

Murdoc sat there watching as the elder man pulled Stu to his feet and slammed him up against a wall; he didn't hear any of the God awful things he screamed at the now crying boy. He kept thinking over and over that he should do something, he should stop him, but would that really make anything better? If anything he'd beat the shit out of Stu's uncle, the old bastard would report him to the police and he'd be charged as an adult. So he sat on the floor flinching and feeling helpless as he watched the scene before him that reminded him far too much of a place he had just left.

"Why are you still here, didn't I tell you to leave my property?"

He shoved Stu to the floor then went over to Murdoc grabbing him by the back of the shirt. He hauled the teen to his feet dragging him to the front door, he opened it then threw the black haired boy out onto the lawn.

"Stay away from my nephew"

With that the door slammed shut.

For the longest time he just sat on the lawn staring at the house knowing exactly what was going on behind that closed door. He could picture it and hear it in his head and it angered him, he felt so fucking pathetic and so god damn useless that he couldn't and wouldn't do anything to stop this. Hadn't Stu saved him, protected him, and helped him?

Yet here he sat outside on his ass knowing that if he'd be brave for just five minutes then he could return the favor.

He shakily got to his feet, turned, and left; his fingers absentmindedly traced along the inverted cross dangling from his neck. He could still smell the younger man's body spray on his clothes, he could still see the look of utter fear in his eyes when his uncle came into the room and caught them. It was an image he knew wouldn't be leaving him anytime soon.


	16. Chapter 16

After the incident had taken place he had gone everywhere in his shit home town except for home, until around two in the morning when he caved in. He didn't go through the front door, instead he opted to crawl through his broken bedroom window only to find his room had been completely trashed and his bed had been removed. It wasn't like he really cared; he laid on the floor and eventually just fell into a horribly uncomfortable state of sleep. The next day he was welcomed home by his father punching him in the stomach then a couple hours later his brother held a knife to his throat then proceeded to kiss him telling him if he moved he'd slit his throat. For whatever reason he didn't leave the house that first real day back home he just stayed there allowing his brother to beat and molest him, allowing his father to yell at him and beat him again and again; the night ended with him curled up on his bedroom floor sore and shaking. Two more days and he decided to go to Stu's uncle's house to see what had happened, if he was truly lucky then the old bastard wouldn't be there and he could apologize and grovel until he was blue in the face.

Sadly Murdoc never was a lucky man.

Barely one knock in and Norman opened the door, he looked rather disgusted to see the greasy haired Goth standing on his door step.

"Where's Stu at?"

"It's none of your business where my nephew is."

"I just wanna talk to him or at least know he's alright."

The older man smiled a bit.

"He doesn't live here anymore, I sent him back to his parents, and don't even think about asking me where the house is because there's now way I'm allowing you anywhere near him."

With that the door was slammed shut.

Didn't those lame romance stories usually end with the guy getting to his girlfriend just before she left town? Apparently that was only in the crappy movies and books he'd watch and read when he was extremely bored; the reality was that the guy got to the house a day too late and the only person he ever cared about was in another town, the truth was that the supposed hero of the story went back to his father's house where he was beaten and then ended his night with his brother doing horrible things to him that would scar him for a lifetime or two. The truth was the story doesn't always end with the hero winning, sometimes it just ends with them dying on the inside.

The End (possible sequel)


End file.
